


The Season of Cheer

by Kaoru_chibimaster



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Mistletoe, pre AC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru_chibimaster/pseuds/Kaoru_chibimaster
Summary: Holidays in Seventh Heaven meant decorating and eggnog. And kisses from Tifa’s favorite grumpy delivery boy.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	The Season of Cheer

Tifa was already snickering to herself the moment Cloud walked under it, completely oblivious until he noticed her humor. Eyebrow raised, he only stared at her silently in hopes she’d answer his unspoken question.

_What was so funny?_

What was funny was right above his head, dangling innocently amidst the few holiday decorations that had already been put up, and Tifa’s eyes flickered up to it before returning to Cloud, starting up another peal of laughter at the utter confusion that clouded his expression.

Only when his line of sight followed hers did he get it.

The tired sigh that followed was equally hilarious.

“Really?” he asked, pointing up at the bundle of mistletoe that hung above his head, shiny with glitter and fake snow.

“I think it’s suits the holiday spirit,” Tifa giggled.

“You wouldn’t think it was so funny if I walked in with someone else right behind me.”

Ha! A sound defense for literally anyone not named Cloud Strife.

“I’d like to see someone else try to kiss you. That’ll be entertaining,” she snorted. She could already see the outcome perfectly in her mind: Cloud’s hand over the other’s face as he bent so far backwards to escape that his head would be nearly level with the tables.

“For you maybe. Besides, what message do you think that sends to your customers?” Cloud reasoned, clomping his way across the wooden floor all the while until he was up at the counter.

“That it won’t be me they’re smooching. I have no reason to be over there—” Tifa gestured at the entrance and gave Cloud a pointed look. “—when I’m bartending over _here_.”

“Yeah?” Eyebrow still quirked, Cloud jerked a thumb upward. He hadn’t missed this one. “And what about that?”

Peering up at the very special, _very temporary_ bundle of mistletoe she’d hung above the bar, Tifa couldn’t help but grin. It was a little too obvious, being so vibrant and decorated with red ribbons galore, but that was really the idea. She wanted to have fun with that one.

“What _about_ that one?” she asked coyly. Arms crossing, fingers gripping into her own fluffy green sweater, Tifa leaned against the bar and waited. She hoped he’d at least play along. It was still morning and just them, what with her usual sparse early patrons even missing. Maybe spending time with their families for once.

“I doubt that’s for customers.”

“You know exactly who it’s for.”

Cloud rolled his eyes at that, but a tiny smile still played at the corners of his lips. There was a softness to the look that Tifa loved. A gentleness that she craved. Rare was the day Cloud’s indifferent mask cracked, but every time it happened Tifa was there to see it and she _adored_ it.

Nearly falling off a ladder trying to staple mistletoe to the ceiling had been worth it, just for that look.

“You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Why should I be?” she shrugged. She wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed of her relationship with Cloud. She wasn’t even shy about it anymore. To deny herself these small moments with him would’ve been pointless, so instead she chose to revel in them. Yeah, she shamelessly stapled mistletoe to her ceiling in hopes she’d lure Cloud over for a few kisses, but who was gonna tell her no? It was _her_ bar and he was _her_ boyfriend.

Even if he was still kinda stiff about it.

She couldn’t quite help the pout that formed when he placed his chin in his hand and looked away.

“What’s got you so decorative anyway? You weren’t like this back home,” he said, tone mildly curious. Not nearly the interest she was looking for.

“ _Mom_ used to decorate before she, um…”

Oh no. No, she was not going down that train of thought. It’d put a halt to whatever mood she was trying to build up faster than she could say “eggnog”. Especially with how fast it wiped what was left of the good cheer Cloud had off his face.

“…Shit. I didn’t mean—”

“Stop. We’re not doing this. It’s the holidays, so we’re going to keep our spirits high, okay?”

And speaking of eggnog…

If there was one thing Tifa had learned while working a bar, it was that alcohol did a great job of elevating a good mood and pile-driving a sour one. She was hoping to stick to the good mood in this scenario. What better way to lift spirits then with good spirits?

And good company.

“Here,” Tifa said, grabbing the bottle she’d kept chilled out of the fridge along with two glasses. She poured silently, watching Cloud watch her out of the corner of her eye. Glad to see that whatever sorry trip down Bad Memory Lane he’d been about to take had seemingly turned its course.

A glass was slid over to him slowly. She didn’t miss that his fingers brushed hers when he grabbed it. That they lingered for a moment.

“Bottoms up,” she grinned, taking a long sip from her own glass.

Not caring that it was the middle of the morning. But hell, it was the holiday season and she was an adult! She could drink boozy eggnog in the middle of the morning in her ugly green sweater if she wanted to!

And this wasn’t nearly enough to get her even so much as tipsy anyway. She knew better than that.

“Sure thing,” Cloud snorted, taking a sip from his own glass before setting it down and pushing it away. She wondered briefly if he had considered the same thing she had and was trying to avoid drinking too much so early. Either that or he just didn’t like it. She didn’t recall him or Mrs. Strife being so big on holidays either. She wondered if they’d even celebrated them.

“Anyway, ever thought maybe I want to decorate now _because_ I never used to? It’s the season of cheer! Of celebration! Togetherness!”

“Wow, yeah. I could see all that good cheer the moment I walked through that door.” This was spoken with about as much enthusiasm as a bowl of bran cereal.

“You don’t have to be a smart-ass about it,” she sighed, flicking Cloud on his nose and watching it wrinkle in response.

“Better than being a dumbass about it.”

Groaning, Tifa finished her glass and turned away to wash it, hoping to use that time to figure out how to coax at least _some_ good cheer out of Cloud—

“Wait.”

And was stopped in her tracks by a hand gripping her arm. It was a gentle, loose grip. Easy to pull out of.

Tifa turned to face him anyway.

His eyes weren’t on her though, instead focused upward and trained on that bundle of mistletoe.

“Don’t you still owe me a kiss?”

Was that an apology for being difficult? It was a very “Cloud” way to go about it.

Somehow she couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from her mouth.

“I thought you didn’t want one.”

“I never said that.”

“You kept complaining about it.”

He tugged on her arm then, causing her to stumble a bit as she was pulled back against the bar. Her body bent towards him awkwardly, sideways until she righted herself to set the glass in her hand down. When she looked up again, his face was but a hair’s breadth from hers.

“I’m not complaining,” he told her. His eyes never left hers once. They told her far more than his words did. Told her things like “I’m sorry” and “I’ll try again”. Things that didn’t really need to be said aloud. She knew him well enough; the defenses were always up until she chipped at them a bit. He was out of his element in this situation and while Cloud normally brushed off things he didn’t know and didn’t like, he stuck around this time. Weathered the storm, so to speak. Enough so that he was willing to offer a kiss under the mistletoe despite his…“not” complaining.

“You won’t run away?” she smiled lightly.

“Since when do I run from things?”

“…Does this mean you’ll help me finish decorating and wear a matching sweater with me?”

“Nope. Not interested.”

She couldn’t help another laugh at that. She knew he’d shoot that one down, but it was worth a shot if only for the furrowed brow and pursed lips.

Now who was the one pouting.

Not that Tifa wasn’t willing to take advantage of the situation. It was presented so clearly to her, like a surprise gift waiting to be claimed, and she’d never been one to pass such opportunities up.

In lieu of an answer, Tifa took Cloud up on the offer with a smug grin and a pucker. It was chaste, barely a peck, and she’d meant to tease with it.

Much to her delight, Cloud got with the program faster than expected. He’d leaned in when she’d pulled away, head tilting to kiss her properly. Lips sealing, moving slowly in tandem. Tongues brushing, sending a warming tingle over her skin. The taste of nutmeg and sugar mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol, and Tifa slid a hand over his jaw to hold him there and relish it. A pair of wandering hands told her that he was enjoying this just as much. Fingers carded through her hair before cupping the back of her head, and trailed down her side until a warm palm rested against her hip. A kiss so sweet she’d almost forgotten where they were.

Almost.

This time when she pulled away, he didn’t follow. Thankfully. As much as she’d love to continue, it wouldn’t do to get so distracted that she couldn’t hear the door opening or wouldn’t notice her surroundings.

Besides, they had time to continue later. She still wanted to decorate.

“Tell you what,” she offered, brushing Cloud’s cheek with a thumb and smiling at how he leaned into her touch. “I’ll take the mistletoe down if you help put up some garland.”

She’d nail it to their bedroom doorjamb or something. Give him some incentive to, uh…keep her warm when the winter cold settled in.

Until then, they had all day to spread some holiday cheer throughout the bar.

“How is it you always manage to rope me into this kinda thing?” he sighed, though she didn’t miss that he’d immediately gotten up and eyed the bunched-up garland messily strewn over one of her tables.

It was funny that he didn’t seem to realize how effortlessly he let himself get roped in.

“You’re kinda easy, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I resent that.”

Chuckling, she cleared away her glasses before pulling the ladder out from the corner by the stove. It’d be a pain getting back up there to take down the mistletoe, but honestly?

It was _definitely_ worth it.


End file.
